Dancing Down in Red Moon
by SerenityChaos
Summary: I threw myself bodily against the steel door that kept me imprisoned...I knew it wasn’t possible but I swore I could smell smoke in the distance. The fire meant for my brother. I should never have brought Sam back to this godforsaken town.
1. Prologue: Dean

Dancing in Red Moon

Prologue

(Dean)

May 1, 2006

Red Moon, MN

I should never have brought Sam back to this godforsaken town. How could I have been so careless? He even warned me, like he warned Dad and me years ago. Somehow Sammy had known, before we'd even set foot in Red Moon, that it was going to go badly for us. The Winchester Boys were cursed in this town. But just like Dad and I had passed it off as Sammy being bitter about our fourth move in three months, I figured it just him being moody and pissed that I'd vetoed his request to follow Dad out to California. But he'd sure as shit known.

_Damn it, Sam. Why can't you ever stay out of trouble?_

It isn't his fault though. It's mine.

_How could I have forgotten what this place did to you? How could I forget my promise? And why the hell didn't you call me on it? Why the fuck did you agree to come here? _

I know the answer to that, just as I knew the answer then.

April 6, 1996

Oxford, IA

"We're not moving there," Sammy declared petulantly, glaring at Dad with far more rebellion than the typically mild-mannered pre-teen ever expressed. I was actually impressed by the way my geek brother was taking a stand, even though it was a pointless stand to take. "Not there."

"We don't decide where the leads take us, Sammy," Dad explained for what seemed like the zillionth time.

"So…just leave us here. Dean and I can hold down the fort."

"Sorry, kiddo, it's going to be too long a trip and I don't foresee us coming back this way."

"But we're in school," Sammy protested even though this was an argument that he'd tried unsuccessfully prior to at least three of our previous moves.

"And you'll be in school there," Dad replied simply. "This is not up for discussion, Sammy. We move out at 0600." With that, he cut off further argument by leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

I grinned as I tossed my advanced algebra text book onto the desk. No need to do that homework. When was I ever going to need to know what the square root of 3x divided by 6 equaled anyway? It was pointless. It's not like there was an algebra demon out there that would kill me if I couldn't determine what a variable equaled. At least I sincerely hoped not. A few more weeks and school was out. And since I was sixteen and could legally drop out, I was hoping that by the time fall came around again I could convince dad to let me do exactly that. Unlike Sammy, I just didn't see the point in going to school to learn useless crap. I learned everything I needed to know out on the road with Dad.

As I pulled my suitcase from the closet and began packing, I watched Sammy sullenly pacing his half of our room. He looked far more upset about this move than he had any of the others. "It's going to be okay, Sammy," I assured him. "You may as well start packing."

He only shook his head and flopped down on his bed, covering his face with his pillow. I sighed and shook my head. I didn't understand why this move had him so upset. It wasn't like he particularly liked Oxford. He really didn't have any friends there that I knew of. In fact I'd think he'd be glad to be getting out of there. More than once I'd heard kids making fun of him on the way to and from school, and I couldn't imagine them being any kinder to him once I was out of sight, either. I'd think he'd be eager to start over somewhere else.

He hadn't even moved by the time I finished packing.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and tugged the pillow away from his face. I shouldn't have been surprised to see the tear streaks on his face, but I was anyway. Dad had always taught us that crying showed weakness, and weakness made one a liability. It might not have been politically correct, but it was a lesson he insisted we take to heart. _Bury emotions deep, boys, or they'll be exploited at every turn. _ While I won't say it came easily, it did come for me. Sammy, though…Sammy was different than Dad and me. He wasn't a crybaby by any stretch of the imagination, but he also couldn't hold his emotions in like I could.

"Aw, Sammy," I sighed, rubbing his hair gently. "It's going to be okay. You'll see."

"No it won't, Dean," he insisted, swiping angrily at the tears he couldn't stop.

I tried not to smile. He could be so overdramatic sometimes. "Look, we'll get there and you'll make some new friends. Maybe I can even talk Dad into letting you play soccer or something." Sammy snorted with obvious disdain at that idea. "What? You said you wanted to this year. And besides," I teased, "you could definitely use some more exercise, pudge."

"Fuck you," he snapped angrily, rolling onto his side away from me.

Okay, so probably that wasn't the brightest way to try and lighten up his mood. I rolled my eyes. He could be so sensitive. I put my hand on his hip. "Seriously, Sammy, it's not going to be that bad."

He looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes red and swollen. "You don't understand," he whispered, his voice trembling. I shook my head and gestured for him to explain. He was right, I didn't get it. "If we move there…I'm going to die," he informed me morosely.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Did I mention that my brother was overdramatic? "You're not going to die, Sammy."

His eyes narrowed crossly and he shoved my hand away from him. "Fuck off."

"Language, little man," I chided lightly.

"You're an asshole," he informed me.

"Bitch."

"Prick."

"Bastard."

"Fucker."

I raised an eyebrow. "I wish."

It took Sammy a moment before the corners of his lips curved upward and he grabbed his pillow and swung it at me. I caught it and tossed it aside with ease then tackled him, tickling him until he cried 'Dean is a God' amidst peals of laughter, and then I stretched out beside him on his bed. For a few minutes we just lay there in silence, regaining our breath and calming down.

"Is it really going to be okay, Dean?" he asked in a small voice.

"I swear it will be, Sammy. I won't let anything bad happen to you." He smiled at me and I felt my heart swell a little bit as I caught the look of total admiration and trust in his eyes. "You're not like going to kiss me or anything are you?" I asked, officially ending the "moment" before it got too sappy.

"Shut up," he snapped, though this time there was amusement behind it. A few moments later he rolled off the bed and retrieved his suitcase from our closet.

May 1, 2006

Red Moon, MN

Sam trusted me. It all boiled down to that. That's why we were in this mess. That's why he agreed to come even though he knew it was a bad idea. He believed me when I told him I'd protect him.

And I'd let him down, again.

April 29, 1996

Red Moon, MN

The moment I heard the sirens, I knew that my brother was in trouble. I cursed under my breath and began sprinting the final blocks to Red Moon Middle School focused on one thought: Whatever happened to Sammy, I was going to be blamed. I was late, after all. I figure I probably shouldn't have stopped to talk to Jayne Willits, but if I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten a date with her to Red Moon's celebration dance. I wasn't exactly sure what they were celebrating, but apparently it was a really huge deal. Not that Dad was likely to let me go now, I thought sourly. _Damn it, Sammy. Why can't you ever stay out of trouble?_

To be fair, it's not like Sammy went looking for trouble or nothing. Quite the opposite, really. He was a good kid. Sickeningly good at times, boringly good others. Yet somehow trouble always had a way of finding him anyway. Which is why, even though the kid insisted that twelve years old was quite old enough for him to walk himself home, I was still stuck on babysitting duty. Dad's orders, not mine. While I sympathized with my brother's want to be independent, I had to defer to Dad on this one. After all, I knew what things lurked out there, and I knew Sammy's penchant for somehow getting himself tangled up with them.

As I rounded the final corner, I slowed to a casual gait. There was no point in calling attention to myself. I eyed the two police cars in the lot and frowned at the ambulance pulling in beside it. The Winchesters had been in Red Moon for a record three weeks without showing up on the local law enforcement radar. I'd hoped to make it the next few months it would take for us to finish out the school year as well, but judging from the commotion that was pretty damn unlikely. What the hell did Sammy get himself into this time?

In case Sammy wasn't in trouble (fat chance), I didn't really want to clue anyone in that I was his older brother come looking for him. As if he wasn't embarrassed enough about me coming here daily. Usually I just waited a block away and 'happened' to catch up to him. But having his big brother waiting for him would be about the social equivalent of sticking a bullseye on his head and asking every kid in school to take their best shot. Still, I had to find out what was going on, so I casually walked up to a group of kids that was gathered on the front lawn.

"What's up with them?" I asked nodding my head toward the police cars and ambulance. My brow furrowed as I spotted a fire engine rolling into the lot as well. Damn, what the hell sort of emergency were they expecting here? There wasn't any trace of smoke, so it wasn't likely a fire. So why the engine? Was it normal for all three emergency groups to respond to calls? I looked back toward the group.

"Some kid is on the roof," one of the girls answered me as she folded her arms across her chest. "They won't let anyone back there." She sighed and looked wistfully toward the group of teachers blocking the side of the building. "We're missing soccer practice," she added, showing just how concerned she was about the kid on the roof. My brother.

What would Sammy be doing on the roof? I smiled slightly as I imagined him staging a coup and heading to the roof to protest some teacher's unfair rules. Still, if that were the case, there really wouldn't be call for the emergency crews. My smile was gone as quick as it'd come. There was really only one reason they'd need all these people. I watched as two cops directed the fire engine across the lawn and around the side of the building.

"I heard they can't get near him because he's got a knife or something." I raised my brow and looked at the girl who said it. "Yeah, I guess he threatened to stab someone or something." Or something.

Sammy wouldn't possibly threaten that. Hell, it was a battle enough to get the kid to use a knife on a hunt. No way would he be threatening someone else.

Oh.

Crap.

If Sammy wasn't the one threatening, and he wasn't here, what were the odds that he was the one being threatened? I'd say total. I looked back to the building, scouting the area for authority figure types and calculating the best way to get to the back of the building without being stopped.

"They need you around back!" he heard a shout and watched as one of the teachers waved the fire engine forward, directing it across the lawn. "You kids get back!" he then shouted at us.

"I heard it's the new kid. I bet the pussy jumps," one of the boys sneered. "With that lard ass he'll probably bounce." He had the grace to shrink back as I glared at him. If I hadn't had bigger worries at the moment, I would have set him straight on a few things about my brother. Sammy might be a geek but he was no pussy. He could most definitely kick this kid's ass, anyway. Without breaking a sweat. Hell this kid would be pissing in his pants at half the stuff Sammy dealt with on a regular basis. I was more concerned about getting to my brother, though, than wasting time with the pissant.

As the fire engine crossed the lawn, I made a dash for it, jumping onto the back bumper as it bounced across the uneven ground. I nearly got thrown once, but held on with determination until it passed the line of teachers and rounded the corner to the back of the building.

I jumped off the bumper as the engine rolled to a stop and looked around, trying to find my brother. They said he was on the roof, but I didn't see him. At least he wasn't on the ledge. Still, by the way most of the emergency responders were looking up, I had to guess he was still up there. I strolled as casually as I could past the group as they discussed the situation. I don't know if they truly thought I looked like I belonged there, or if they just didn't notice me as I headed up the stairs and into the building. As soon as I had passed anyone who looked like they might stop me I picked up the pace, racing up the stairs in record time. Once I reached the top floor, I began searching for the roof access. It wasn't too hard to find as a small group had gathered around the ladder.

"You can't be up here, son," a woman informed, grabbing my arm to stop me as I tried to pass her anyway.

I turned to her with an appraising look. The principal, I surmised, taking in her executive dress suit and her air of authority. "I think my brother might be up there. Sammy Winchester?" The woman's expression softened, confirming my fear. That's all I needed to know. I started to pull my arm away, but she didn't relinquish her hold. I looked back at her with a guarded expression.

"I'm sorry; you still can't go up there. Perhaps you should come with me to my office."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. What good would I do in her office? "Ma'am, I'm a trained negotiator," I lied smoothly, hoping that she would mistake my confidence for age and wisdom. I'd only just turned sixteen, but when I put my mind to it, I could usually pass for a few years older. "I know my brother. I can get him down."

She looked hesitant for a moment, and her eyes searched mine. I could tell she was trying to decide if I was bullshitting or not. Apparently, I looked sufficiently sincere and she let go of me, giving me a slight nod.

"Thank you, ma'am," I called to her as I reached the ladder and began scaling the rungs.

"Sammy?" I called out as soon as I stepped up onto solid ground. I looked around, seeking my little brother. It took a few moments, but finally I spotted one of his sneakers peeking out from the shadows of the furnace vents. "Hey, Sammy?" I called again as I moved closer, confused by his non-response. This wasn't like Sammy at all. He might be moody, but he wasn't one to hide from his problems. He tackled challenges head on, he didn't hide on rooftops. Or threaten to jump. Or threaten to stab anyone, I mentally added, grinning slightly at that impossible rumor. "Come on out, Sammy," I tried again as I approached him.

I frowned when he didn't even flinch. Something was very wrong. He wouldn't look in my direction, he just kept his head tucked down against his knees and he was slowly rocking. "Sam?" I called out in a much softer, concerned voice.

Finally he looked up, his movement so slow it was barely perceptible.

Bile rose in my throat as I took in his appearance. What the--I dropped to my knees, too stunned to keep myself upright--Hell? There was blood caked around Sammy's mouth and nose and dried in rivulets where it had trickled from his eyes to his chin and from his ears to where it had dribbled down his neck. His face was unnaturally pale save for an enormous bruise that covered nearly half of it. My breath caught as I saw the deep bruising that encircled his neck, as though someone had been intent on choking the life out of him. "Sammy," I whispered as I crawled toward him. His shirt was torn and I could see deep bruising on his chest as well. "Who…what did this to you?"

Sammy didn't answer except to tilt his head slowly to the side and continue to stare blankly at me as though terribly confused by my question. His eyes were unnaturally dark, and for the first time in his life that I could remember, they didn't have that adoring light that always seemed to be reserved just for me. It's funny how you don't really notice things until they're gone.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears that I was forbidden to cry and had to blink rapidly to stop them. I hadn't protected Sammy like I promised him I would. I felt such a profound despair that I almost backed away from him, unable to handle the consequence of my failure. But I couldn't just leave him. I had to try to fix things.

After a few moments I inched closer, but stopped as Sammy began to emit a terrible high pitched mewling sound and cowered farther into the shadows. My eyes flickered to the knife he was clutching in one of his hands. I recognized it as one that Dad gave him to carry when we're on the hunt, and happened to know that it was particularly sharp. I was relieved to note that the blade was still clean, but I had to get it away from him before he hurt himself…or me. I slowly eased closer until I was almost close enough to reach the weapon.

In a flurry of movement Sam was suddenly on his feet and scrambling away from me in a panic. "Sammy, no!" I cried, as I watched him leap from the solid roof up onto the ledge. For a moment I swore he was going to go right over the side, but instead he stopped and turned toward me, balancing precariously on the edge. I don't think I've ever been as scared in my entire life as I was in that moment. I couldn't move. I froze completely, unable to say or do anything to save my baby brother.

Sammy's head slowly lolled back and for a moment I was sure that just that small movement was going to topple him off balance and over the edge, lost to me forever. Instead, Sammy's arms raised as if he were trying to hand the knife up to the sun.

"S-sammy," I called, my voice hoarse with emotion I wasn't supposed to feel. All my years of training escaped me as I watched my brother's life literally hanging in the balance. "P-puh…please just come away from there." I let the tears roll down my cheeks unchecked. It was the first time I can remember crying since…since mom. I swallowed a sob. I had to be strong. I couldn't lose Sammy. Not like that. He wasn't himself, he had to be…possessed or something. The Sammy I knew wouldn't do this no matter how upset he was. The idea that he wasn't in control made me feel oddly better. Not that he'd be any less dead if he fell. "You're stronger than this. Fight it, Sammy." His head stayed tilted toward the sun, but I could see his eyes rolling down to look at me. "Come on, Sammy," I encouraged, my heart racing as I glanced around, looking for anything that I could use to help him. There was nothing. I swallowed my fear and stood up straight, wiping the tears from my face. "Damn it, Sammy, you get down from there right now! That's an order!" I bellowed, borrowing my father's favorite tactic.

I saw Sammy's jaw clenching so hard I was afraid that his teeth would break. Come on, kid. I held my breath watching him struggle, wishing that somehow I could change places with him. When I found out what the hell demon was doing this it was going to wish it had never messed with my baby brother.

Sammy's mouth flew open and he gasped in air as if he'd been suffocating. That's it, Sammy, fight it. You're not going to die here. Though my heart was still pounding with an intense fear, I was starting to feel confident that he was going to beat this thing.

"D-" I heard Sammy struggling to speak.

"Yeah, Sammy," I replied, my mouth curving into a smile. "I'm here. Come on, Bitch. Come down off the ledge."

"D-dean…"

He had it. He was going to beat it. I could feel it.

"D-dean help me," Sammy called out desperately and I watched in horror as his back arched, forcing him to lean further over the edge. NO! I leapt forward, but before I could make it even half way to him his arms swung down and I saw the knife blade swiping the length of his left arm, ripping the skin it its wake. The knife was tossed from his right hand to his left and with a flick of his wrist, the blade made a matching gouge up his right arm. No…I screamed as the knife dropped from his hand, blood streaming after it. Way too much blood. Then, to my horror, Sam's arms raised again and he leaned back…toppling over the edge.

_If we move there…I'm going to die. _

"SAMMY!" I broke from my frozen stupor and raced to the edge, knowing it was too late to save him and insanely tempted to follow him over the side. I made myself stop short, my heart broken, but reason taking over. Dad would never survive this alone. I wasn't sure we'd survive it anyway. I dropped to my knees, my whole body shaking. My stomach heaved and I retched violently until there was nothing left in me to purge. And then just a little more.

When I felt a hand on my back and nearly had a heart attack.

"You need to get downstairs, your brother needs you," a woman's voice told me. I looked up and was startled to see the principal. What was she playing at Sammy needed me? He was gone. He didn't need me anymore. I stared at her, not comprehending. Confused I got up and stumbled to the ledge. Peeking over the edge my heart started beating again. They'd set up an air-mattress-safety-net-thingamajobbie. They were already pulling Sammy from it and loading him onto a gurney. My stomach clenched as I saw the streaks of red he'd left behind.

"Come on, son," Principal Lady tugged my arm, trying to lead me back toward the ladder.

Fuck that.

I pulled away from her and before she could stop me I leapt over the edge, and went crashing down into the safety mattress thing. I don't remember landing, or being hauled from it. I remember nothing but racing after my brother's gurney and jumping into the back of the ambulance along side him. "Sammy, can you hear me?" I asked, trying to make sure that it was really Sammy, not whatever had possessed him. He didn't answer right away, but his head rolled to the side so he could look at me. "Come on, Bitch…" The paramedic closest me was the only one to hear me, and he glared at me and pointed me to the passenger seat. Before I could obey, I felt Sammy's hand brush lightly against mine and turned back to him.

"Dean?" he whispered weakly.

"What?"

"You're an asshole."

It may not have been that funny, but I laughed with borderline hysteria. That was definitely my Sammy.

The paramedic looked at me as though I was crazy, and once again directed me into the passenger seat. I watched as the paramedics quickly worked to stabilize my brother. The first round of bandages they'd wrapped around his arms was already soaking through. There was nothing funny about his situation, yet I couldn't stop laughing, not even when the forbidden tears once again began streaming down my cheeks. As I heard the words 'bleeding out' I couldn't get the idea that the last words my brother would ever say to me were 'you're an asshole'. I silently promised him that if he did die, that was going to be written on his tombstone as his final words, so he had better pull through. As horrible as it would be to lose him, that idea made me laugh all the harder.

When we reached the hospital, the doctors refused to let me into the trauma room. I knew what that meant. They still thought he was going to die, and they didn't want me to witness it.

Instead of leading me to a waiting room, though, they led me into an exam room of my own. I was only dimly aware of someone unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off. Why would they do that? As it dropped to the floor I saw that there were streaks of blood on it. Sammy's blood. Oh. I didn't have time to contemplate that, though, because someone was pushing me back onto the exam table.

The idiots, I laughed at them. They actually thought that I was hurt? It wasn't my blood, it was Sammy's. I felt something pricking my arm. And now they were drugging me? I looked over at the doctor in confusion.

"It…ay. J…alm…n." She seemed to be speaking some sort of foreign language. Maybe she was speaking in tongues, I giggled as she pressed me down flat. I could hear a soothing voice, and saw her mouth moving, but I couldn't understand a thing it was saying. It didn't matter anyway.

And then I don't remember anything else until I woke to the sound of a soft voice singing to me. A voice I hadn't heard sing since I was four years old. Daddy.

"Hey, Dean-o," my dad stopped singing and greeted me as he saw my eyes fluttering open. His voice was thick with emotion. Like he'd been crying.

I was immediately fully awake. Sammy. Sammy was dead. I knew it. Why else would my dad be crying? I shook my head. "No…" I said emphatically. "Sammy…" I gulped in air but couldn't seem to let it back out.

"He's going to be fine," my dad assured me, his giant hand gently stroking my hair, brushing it out of my face. I looked wildly around for my brother. If he was fine, he'd be here. "Shhh. He's in his own room. He's fine. Now calm down before they sedate you again," my dad said with a slight teasing tone in his voice. He smiled at me affectionately.

"I want to see him."

My dad only shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo. They won't let us see him right now." I struggled to sit up, but my dad pushed me back down gently. Why wouldn't they let us see him? "Shh. Dean, I swear it's going to be okay," he said, unknowingly echoing my words to Sammy.

"Why won't…?" I started to ask, my eyes filling with tears. I immediately tried to turn my head away from him, not wanting him to see my weakness, but his arms went around me and pulled me against him in a warm hug.

"They'll let us see him after the evaluation period is over."

Evaluation? I looked up, confused.

Dad smiled down at me sadly. And suddenly I knew.

"No, Dad. He didn't…he wasn't trying to kill himself," I cut him off.

"We'll get him through it," Dad assured me.

"No. Really. Dad." I struggled again to sit up, needing to get this out. Needing him to know. "I swear, you didn't see him. It wasn't Sammy. He was possessed by…by something."

Dad smiled sadly, and I could see that he didn't believe me. "Dean…in order to defeat weakness, we have to face it. And we will. Winchesters watch out for each other." And with that the subject was closed.

I was furious with Dad's assessment of the situation. Sammy wasn't weak, and I spent the next 36 hours trying to prove it. I poured over Dad's texts and even searched the local library for anything that might provide a clue as to what attacked Sammy. In the end I came up empty. The answers would only be found with Sammy himself.

Unfortunately they weren't found there, either.

Sammy was released after the initial evaluation period. They declared that he was not a danger to himself or others. It was determined that the suicide attempt was caused by a temporary loss of sanity triggered by a traumatic attack. An attack that Sammy himself remembered nothing about. He didn't remember being on the roof, or anything that happened before it, or after it. The police had a record of his injuries and were investigating the school, but without Sammy's story, there was little to no chance that his assailant would ever be found.

May 1, 2006

Sam said he didn't remember a thing about that day. He convinced almost everyone. He played the part flawlessly as he was questioned by the police and the therapist assigned to his case, even Dad. Yes, he played the part flawlessly. During the day.

At night, however, I would lie awake and watch him grapple with nightmares that he couldn't recall by the light of day. Or so he said. There were other signs as well. He was quieter after it happened. He'd never been all that talkative around most people, so few even noticed. But I wasn't most people. I wasn't the only one who noticed the dramatic loss in weight, but it was passed off as a typical teenage boy awkward growing stage. Nobody but me noticed that he'd stopped eating like a 'normal' growing boy. Dad didn't notice that our money stretched a whole lot further when we didn't have to replace the week's groceries half way through the week anymore.

The only time Sam ever gave any conscious indication that he might remember more than he let on happened the night we left Red Moon.

May 1, 1996

We had the house all packed before we even went to pick Sammy up from the hospital. Dad's lead hadn't panned out at all, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing in the area that was worth the danger to Sammy. Someone at the school had attacked him, though Dad and I disagreed on whether or not that someone was human.

Sammy didn't say a word as he was being released and the doctor went over his discharge instructions with Dad. He stayed unusually close to me, though I didn't call him on it. Instead, I wrapped my arm protectively around him and pulled him against me in a one-armed hug, letting him use me as the excuse for it. I was rewarded by the way his eyes lit up slightly when they met mine. Though the light was dulled by pain, it was definitely an improvement. I wouldn't ever forget the one time I'd looked at him and it wasn't there. I grinned down at him and ruffled his hair. His response was to punch me playfully in the side and give me an exaggerated scowl.

"Dean!" I heard someone calling my name and looked up in surprise.

"Jayne?" What was she doing at the hospital? I looked at her in confusion, but then noticed the name tag she wore. She worked in the gift shop. "Hey," I greeted.

"Hi," she returned, smiling brightly, tossing her long blonde hair back over her shoulder. She looked down at Sammy and her expression changed to an odd mixture of sympathy and what I thought might be annoyance, but hoped I was misreading. He shrank back against me, peering at her shyly. "You must be Dean's brother." Sammy nodded, but didn't answer her. "Aren't you a cutie," she commented, though she was being extremely kind considering his current injuries.

Sammy looked up at me, his cheeks growing pink with embarrassment. I ruffled his hair again and gave him a little nod, indicating that he should give me a minute. He smiled faintly and casually went to sit in one of the wait room chairs.

"So…um…" I started awkwardly.

"How is he?" Jayne asked, still watching Sammy. "I heard he…tried to kill himself," she finished that in a whisper.

I shook my head. "He's fine. It was just a…misunderstanding." It was lame, but true. "Look, Jayne…"

"I can't wait for the dance tonight," she cut me off, her smile back full force.

"About that…"

"I have the cutest new dress. You're going to just die when you see it. I can't believe they finally got the new community center built. I can't wait to see that, either. My dad said that it looked amazing, and they've really gone all out for the dance," she continued, all in the same breath. "Maybe your brother could come with us. My sister's about his age, I think."

"Well actually…"

"You're gonna pick me up at 6:30, right?"

"Jayne…I'm afraid I can't go."

"What?" She looked as though I'd just struck her. A moment later her eyes darted over to Sammy and I saw her annoyance growing, obviously blaming him. My jaw clenched, but I didn't want to cause a scene, and I'd never have to deal with her again anyway, so I let it go.

"Yeah, we're moving…taking off from here, actually." If only she hadn't worked here, I never would have had to have this conversation. "So…sorry I can't take you to the dance." And honestly, the way she's looking at my brother at the moment, even if we weren't leaving, I'm not so sure I'd want to take her anyway. "I guess…uh…" I looked around for Dad, hoping he was ready to go. Fortunately he was. I gave him a nod. "Look, I've got to go. Sorry things didn't work out," I said hastily.

"Yeah…" she answered, her voice small. "Bye…"

I nodded and turned away from her, motioning for Sammy to come back over. I slung my arm around his shoulders as we walked toward the parking lot. I couldn't help but glance back as we reached the entrance. Jayne still stood in the hall, watching us, a sad look on her face. I gave her a quick wave on the way out the door.

I let Sammy take shotgun for a change and squeezed into the back seat with several of our suitcases. He didn't seem nearly as happy to be leaving town as I thought he'd be. I watched him closely in the window's reflection as we drove through town for the last time. I noticed the way he shrank down in his seat as we neared his school. I frowned as I saw his eyes close and the lone tear that ran down his cheek as we passed it. I wanted to ask him about it, but surmised from his earlier silence that he didn't particularly want to discuss it. I could understand that. It didn't mean that I'd let it go, but I wouldn't bug him about it in front of Dad…I'd have a better chance of getting a real answer later when we were alone.

As it turned out, I didn't get that chance until late that night. Sammy fell asleep almost immediately after we checked into a hotel for the night, so even when Dad left to take in the town, I couldn't ask him about it.

I flipped on the TV and tried to watch for a while, but in the end I ended up stretched out in the bed next to Sammy just watching him sleep. I couldn't stop staring at the bandages that ran the length of his arms.

I couldn't believe I almost lost him like that. Worse, I wasn't even the one who saved him. He'd been attacked and I'd done nothing to help him. I'd made it worse. If I hadn't tried to get the knife he never would have ended up…

"Dean?"

I was startled to notice that Sammy's eyes were open and he was peering at me wearily.

"Yeah, Sammy?" I choked out, realizing for the first time that I'd been crying again. I quickly wiped away the evidence, hoping that Sammy didn't notice. The last thing I needed was for him to figure out just how badly I'd screwed up.

"I'm sorry you're missing the dance."

I chuckled. "It's okay, Sammy…" The dance was the least of my concerns.

"I didn't know. I really didn't mean to…" I sat up straighter, somehow knowing he was about to tell me what really happened. Except then he stopped, his eyes turning glassy.

"Didn't know? Didn't mean to what, Sammy?" I encouraged, stroking his hair gently.

He looked at me with confusion. "What?"

"You said you didn't mean to. What didn't you mean?"

His eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "I don't know…I-I don't remember."

I gazed at him, not sure if I should believe him or not. He looked sincere, but I could swear that I could see just a hint of fear in his eyes. He looked away. "Sammy?"

"I ruined everything," he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself as if warding off the cold. But I knew that temperature had nothing to do with why he was shivering.

I gripped his chin and turned him back to face me. "Ruined? You didn't ruin anything…" I flinched as I saw a strange light in his eyes, almost as if they were on fire. But when I looked again, it was gone.

"We can't go back there, Dean."

"We won't," I assured him.

"Not ever."

"Promise, Sammy." I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him until he stopped trembling. "And Sammy…?"

"Hmm?"

"Not a word about this hugging thing to anyone."

He punched me lightly in the side. "Asshole."

May 1, 2006

Red Moon

I should never have gone back on my promise.

"Sammy!" I yelled, my voice raw from overuse. I threw myself bodily against the steel door that kept me imprisoned and helpless, once again, to save my baby brother.

I knew it wasn't possible but I swore I could smell smoke in the distance.

The fire meant for my brother.

I should never have brought Sam back to this godforsaken town.

---------

Thanks for reading. Constructive criticisms are highly appreciated. I'm an extremely neurotic writer, and getting feedback keeps me going. :) --Chaos

PS. Thanks to Serenity for beta-reading and encouraging me to get this chapter finished.


	2. Chapter One: Sam

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed (and who will review :D ) I appreciate any and all comments (except flames, but hey, even those at least I know people are reading and care enough to say something. Plus I love roasting marshmallows…) Anyhoo, on with it.

Oh yeah. Disclaimer: Alas, they're not mine. Not making a cent from them. Will return them in reasonable condition when I'm done.

Dancing Down in Red Moon

One

(Sam)

I stared at the map, my jaw clenching and unclenching as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. There had to be some sort of mistake. I checked and double-checked the coordinates. Then checked them again.

Son of a bitch.

"We're not going," I informed Dean. To emphasize my point, I shoved the table back as I got up, my temper rising in direct proportion of the fear that was trying to grip me. 'A stupid mark on a map should not instill fear,' I tried to reason with myself in an attempt to calm down before Dean noticed it. And yet my body remembered things my mind refused to acknowledge, tensing almost to the point of trembling.

Dean's eyebrows rose as he looked across the table at me with a guarded expression, waiting patiently for me to explain myself and then come around to his way of thinking. I tossed the map and pencil at him. Let him come around to my way of thinking once he figured out where Dad was trying to send us.

"We should be going after Dad," I groused. "We should be there when he goes after it, Dean." I knew I wouldn't have to elaborate on what "it" was--the thing that killed our mother.

Dean rolled his eyes as he popped another bite of his Wonder Burger into his mouth. He made a show of casually dabbing at his mouth with his napkin before reaching over to gather the map and pencil I'd thrown his way. "We're not following Dad. He'll let us know when it's time for us to be there," he countered. "You heard him; we're all going to have a part to play in that fight."

I shook my head, scowling. Of course Dean just accepted Dad's word without question. I'd gone along with it, but…I wasn't so sure that we'd done the right thing.

Dean frowned as he located where I'd marked the map. "You sure about these coordinates?" he asked, snatching up the post-it that I'd jotted them on and double-checking them before I even responded. I crossed my arms across my chest and waited for him to come to the same conclusion I had. "Son of a bitch."

I smiled slightly as he echoed my thoughts. "See? We're not going."

Dean sighed and peered at me over the top of the map. I could see it in his eyes before he even said the words. "We have to, Sammy."

"No," I replied firmly. "We don't." I stared at him, challenging him to argue with me about it. "And my name is Sam," I added, though I knew that declaration would fall on deaf ears.

"He wouldn't send us there unless it was important."

Right. And Dad always had our best interests at heart. I shook my head again. "I'm not going." Dean simply stared at me over the top of the map. "What?" He stared so hard I swore I could actually feel his thoughts. _Don't be such a spoiled brat, Sam-my_. I looked away, feeling guilty. But I wasn't going to cave. Not on this.

"Why not?" he asked, though I was pretty sure he knew exactly why not.

"I…" I looked away, scowling. Some secrets were meant to be kept. "I just have a feeling." Which was true, I did. I just also had a hell of a memory that I wanted to keep as far away from me as I could. I couldn't go back there. I couldn't face…I just couldn't.

"A feeling," Dean repeated, his voice cynical. In that moment I hated him. He was trying to make me admit it. Trying to make me spell everything out to him about why I couldn't go back there. If anyone knew what happened to me there, he did. Though he didn't even know the half of it. The worst of it. He only saw what happened to me…after. I glared at him, refusing to play into his mind game.

"Yeah, a feeling," I shot back, not relenting. I didn't want to talk about what happened there. I didn't want to talk about it then, and I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it now. That secret was buried deep, and there was no way I was going to go dredging it up again. Not now, not ever. "If we go back there…" _we're going to die_ "something bad is going to happen."

"Something bad is going to happen if we _don't_ go," Dean argued, glaring right back at me in a battle of wills. He sighed in exasperation when I refused to back down. He shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly. And then he let out a calming breath and nodded slightly, relenting. "Okay. I tell you what. We'll do the research here. If we don't find anything, we'll…walk away. If we do…I can drop you off in Dalton and go take a look myself. Happy?"

I wanted to say yes. I wanted that to make me feel a whole lot better. But if anything, it just made my feeling get worse. The idea of Dean going there alone terrified me almost more than the idea of going with him. I started to shake my head and Dean let out another exasperated groan. "Look, Sam. I get that you don't want to go back there. And I really don't blame you. But we can't just ignore this thing. Hell, it might even be the same thing that…" he trailed off, his lips pursed in a thin frown.

"The same thing that what?" I prompted sharply, though I already knew the answer. I needed him to say it. I needed him to recognize why I couldn't go there. Why he shouldn't even ask me to go there. At the same time, though, I felt a panic seizing me. What if he was right? What if it was the same thing that attacked me? We never went back to take care of it. It was still out there. Waiting for me.

Dean's expression softened a little and I recognized the look of guilt that was appearing at the edges of his eyes. I thought that would make me feel better, but it didn't. Not even a little bit. I felt my temper rapidly cooling off, leaving only fear and guilt in its wake.

"What if it's been out there for 10 years, Sammy?" Dean asked quietly, twisting the knife in my gut just a little bit more. I nervously licked my lips as my heart sped up. I shook my head, though I knew he was right. Still, I couldn't…I just couldn't.

_Selfish little prick_. I blinked rapidly to stop the tears that were threatening to start welling. He was right. I knew he was.

"We're not kids anymore," Dean continued his argument, the words said in an encouraging tone but I played the words back in my head in a condescending one. We weren't kids. It was okay to be afraid when we were kids…well, okay according to Dad it wasn't, but at least it was understandable. "We can beat it this time," Dean persisted. "We're stronger now. _You_ are stronger now. And damn, Sammy, you _won _last time. Didn't you," he reminded me. I looked at him warily, smiling weakly at his proud look. The thing was, though, that I _didn't_ win last time. Not even close. I just survived. Barely. He got up and came over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I don't know what you went through," Dean admitted, "but I do know it _tried_ to kill you. But you're still here. That was all your doing; you didn't even need my help on that one." He was getting dangerously close to one of his dreaded 'moments'. "You're stronger now, and I'll be right there, too. We can beat…we can _kill_ this thing."

I swallowed nervously. I heard what he was saying, and it made sense. It really did. But the idea of going back there made my entire body ache. I couldn't wrap my head around the concept of facing…it. I couldn't.

But if we didn't, how many others would suffer because I was too cowardly to do anything to stop it. How many had already in the ten years I'd avoided it? Dean was right. I was being selfish. Not that he'd said the words, but he had to be thinking them. I know I was. I felt my mouth start to water and a cold sweat broke out on my brow. I wiped my suddenly clammy palms on my jeans. My stomach was churning, but I forced myself to look over at Dean and nod my head. "Okay," I agreed, knowing it was the right thing to do but

Before he could say anything, I turned and headed for the restroom. I barely made it there before the lunch I'd just eaten spewed forth.

We were going back to Red Moon.

A/N: Sorry such a short chapter, but that seemed like the appropriate place to break. Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticisms are welcomed and appreciated! --Chaos


	3. Chapter Two: Dean

A/N: Once again, thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to review. I really appreciate it, and it really keeps me motivated to keep writing even when the writer's block beast attacks (hmm…now _there's_ a beast for the guys to take on sometime…eh.)

Dancing Down in Red Moon

Two

(Dean)

April 29, 2006

We all have things in our pasts that have gotten the better of us. Things that have torn holes in our souls and left festering wounds that never completely healed. Losing battles is what makes us stronger, teaching us what we have yet to learn. So we study, and we train, and we hunt them again. Facing those things and ultimately conquering them? That's the only way to become whole again.

With the way Sam left the table I figured he wasn't feeling too good about the decision to go back to Red Moon, but it was the right thing to do. For him and for the people there. Even if he didn't realize it himself yet, there was no way that this thing would get the better of him again. If he thought about it a minute, he'd realize that it had preyed on his youth, relative inexperience, and smaller size. I mean, sure, it was strong. Even at not-quite thirteen, Sammy had been a tough, well-trained combatant, and he'd beat it back then. It was a close call; much closer than I'd like to remember, but Sam was still alive to prove that he had beat it. And now, ten years older, wiser, bigger, and stronger, Sam was definitely a more formidable foe.

And of course this time he'd have his big brother at his side.

The thing didn't have a chance.

We had another advantage, too. And that's that we knew what to expect. At least Sam did. The trick would be getting him to not only remember every little detail that he could, but to get him to fill me in on it.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he was too keen on doing that. I glanced guiltily at the restroom door and hesitated, wanting to give Sam a few minutes to get himself together without me pestering him. Besides, it wouldn't do any good to go in there and make a big deal out of it. What would I really do anyway say stupid shit like 'it'll be okay' and that crap? I was sure it would be okay, of course, but like Sam would buy it? My going in there would just embarrass us both.

Still, we really needed to get a move on if we were going to get to Red Moon by nightfall. Especially if we did stop off in Dalton to do our research. It would probably be better if we could hit the Red Moon library, but I didn't want to push Sam unless it became necessary.

I gave Sam another minute before I gathered our stuff and headed back to find him.

I winced as I discovered that he was on the floor of one of the toilet stalls, most likely the result of praying to the Porcelain Gods. My feeling of guilt doubled and I really wanted to tell Sammy to forget it, that we'd tell Dad he'd have to handle this one on his own.

But I didn't.

If Sammy wasn't there when we took this thing down, it would eat at him for the rest of his life: the demon that defeated him. I knew Sam wasn't a coward, but I also knew that if he didn't face up to this thing, he'd probably end up feeling like one.

I stayed in the doorway, stepping back slightly so that he wouldn't see me. No point in embarrassing him. This time. "Sammy? What happen? You fall in?" I called, pretending that I had no idea what was taking him so long. Okay so maybe the moment called for a little bit of embarrassment. I heard him quickly scrambling to get up, hoping, no doubt, that I hadn't witnessed anything.

"No," he snorted weakly. "Just…bad hamburger," he added, his voice a little shaky even as he pretended to be perfectly fine. I knew better, but smiled slightly at his attempt to cover his fear.

"Okay then. I'll wait for you in the car," I informed him, hesitating for another moment, wanting to comfort him somehow, but not really sure how to do so. So I did the next best thing. "Don't forget to flush."

Even though his face was completely out of my vision, I could see him scowling at me and smirked as I let the door swing shut to the sound of, "Fuck off, wiseass."

It took Sam a couple minutes to wash up and catch up to me. I tactfully ignored the fact he was sucking on a peppermint. I'd have to make a point to "need" to stop at the next rest stop so he could have a chance to get out the ole mouth wash.

I figured I should probably wait for a while before I started asking him questions about the thing we'd be facing. I didn't want him getting sick again. I watched him from the corner of my eye, pretending not to notice the way he was sullenly staring out the window, avoiding me. He had to know I was going to start asking about it. Not that I wanted to, but I needed to.

"There's a library in Dalton. I figure we'll stop there," I casually broached the subject of researching. I saw Sam's reflection nodding slightly. Oh yeah, this was going to be easy, I thought sarcastically. I wanted to spare him the interrogation, but it didn't look like he was going to be offering up information willingly. "We'll maybe start checking back every ten years or so an see if we can find a pattern of any sort," I continued plotting out loud, though I may as well have been talking to myself for the way Sam was paying attention. "Maybe there's a pattern, you know. It's been about ten years since you…since we were there." I watched him carefully, hoping to get a reaction when I mentioned his involvement in the last time.

For a minute I didn't think I would get one, but then finally Sam turned slightly away from the window. "You don't think it's been…" he started to ask something, but stopped short, returning his gaze out the window.

Crap.

"What's that?" I prompted, pretending to not notice how much he didn't want to ask whatever it was.

Sam sighed and looked down at his lap for a moment before speaking again. "You don't think it's been…active since then?" he asked, looking up at me for the first time since we'd left the diner. If I never saw the expression he was giving me on his face again, it would be too soon. It was a pathetic mixture of guilt, hope, shame, and more than a little self-loathing.

Aw, Sammy…you were just a kid, I wanted to tell him. But I knew that wouldn't help him any. Neither would the answer to his question. I had no idea. I didn't know what it was we were looking for. I just knew that the timing now was ten years almost to the exact date of when Sammy'd been attacked. That made it seem to me like it was a time-based pattern, but I couldn't be sure until we knew what we were up against. "We probably would have had to go back there sooner if it had been," I answered carefully.

Sam nodded, accepting my answer. I saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly, a weight at least temporarily lifted. For his sake, I hoped that my theory was correct. If he found out this thing had hurt others…he'd probably be anal enough to blame himself forever.

We drove the next hundred miles in near silence. I couldn't figure out how to force him to start talking about what had happened, especially when I saw what this trip was already doing to him. The closer we got to Red moon, the more nervous he became. By the time we saw the first mile sign listing, he was really starting to fidget, his leg bouncing at an alarming rate. Whatever this thing was, it clearly still had a big effect on him. Id' never seen him react this way to anything, and it was more than a little disconcerting.

"Need a pit stop?" I asked, knowing that his dance in the passenger seat had nothing to do with needing to piss, but hoping to get him to admit it. That would give me a perfect "in" to start prying the information out of him.

But he was stubborn and shook his head, keeping his trap shut.

I sighed. Fine. We'd play it his way. For now. "Okay, the library in Dalton might have some of the news for Red Moon…"

"But we'd be better off going on into town," Sam quietly finished for me. "There we'd have the local paper archives. We'd be more likely to get complete information," he explained unnecessarily. I looked at him pointedly, silently asking if it was okay. He looked warily back at me for a moment then nodded. "We'd be wasting time in Dalton. I'll be fine."

"Good boy."

He scowled at me and muttered something about not being a dog.

"That's debatable," I shot back with a smug grin.

He rolled his eyes, but I was pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up slightly.

Still his fidgeting got worse and worse the closer we got to our destination. I started seriously worrying if he was truly going to be able to handle this job. I could see sweat breaking out on his brow and hear catches in his breath. What the hell had this thing done to him? "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" he asked tensely, his face unnaturally pale.

"You want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours before it explodes all over my car?"

He glanced at me and gave me a weak scowl. "I…I'm okay."

"Who you trying to convince?"

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. I could see him forcing himself to still, though I could also see his hand clenching into a fist so tight that his knuckles turned white. "Happy?"

No. I wasn't. "Look, Sam, I know you don't want to talk about it, but…I think you're going to have to."

Sam turned once again toward the window. "Talk about what?" he played stupid.

I rolled my eyes. "About the price of tacos in Spain." He looked at me, a bemused expression on his face. "What do you think 'about what'?"

He shook his head. "Nothing to talk about."

"Right. And that's why you lost your lunch earlier." His eyes widened. Yeah, big brothers ain't so dumb as you think. "And why you're practically doing a tango over in your seat there…" For a few moments Sam didn't say anything.

"More like the fox trot," he finally said, avoiding the question altogether.

"Sam…"

"I know, Dean. I do…I just…there really isn't anything to tell. I don't remember much about it."

Much? Mmhmm. Gotcha. "Well…what do you remember?" I prompted.

If possible, Sam's face lost even more color, but he didn't say anything.

I considered prompting him again, but felt guilty about pushing when it so clearly upset him. We'd let it drop for now. But if we didn't find something substantial in our research, I'd have to press the issue. I knew what dad would say about my decision to temporarily drop it, and I knew he was right. If it were anyone but Sammy, I would be questioning away and not taking 'no answer' for an answer. I knew I shouldn't make exceptions, but Sam was my weak spot.

A minute later, Sam surprised me by starting the conversation himself, "I never saw it coming."

"What's that?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What happened in Red Moon. I…I just didn't see it coming."

I glanced at him sideways, concerned by his demeanor. "Well, you weren't having that weird whammyvision of yours back then, were you?" I asked carefully.

Sam shook his head. "No…but…" I could tell he wasn't convinced.

"So how were you supposed to see it coming?" I tried again, not understanding why he was being quite so hard on himself about this. "You don't expect some demon thing to attack you in school. And you don't expect it to try and make you slit your wrists."

Sam's face grew even more pale and I noticed his fingers trailing absently over the barely visible scars on his left arm. I very nearly crashed the car at his next words. "It didn't." He said them so quietly I almost didn't hear it. But I did. And for a moment I forgot I was driving and twisted in my seat to stare at him. His eyes widened and there was nothing quiet about it when he yelled, "Dean, look out!"

I looked up and realized that I'd just veered into the wrong lane and there was a semi blaring its horn at me. I recovered as quickly as I could, swerving back into the correct lane and righting the car before slowing and pulling off the side of the road just past the 1 Mile to Red Moon sign.

I took a few breaths and could hear Sam's erratic breathing, too, as we just sat for a moment, collecting ourselves from the close call.

"What do you mean 'it didn't'?" I asked as soon as I could think clearly again. Sam looked away from me, but I could still see his reflection in the window. "Sammy?"

"Don't call me that…not here," he whispered and I felt goosebumps rising on my flesh as I sensed just how important this was to him. Something was terribly wrong. As many times as he'd corrected me, I'd never really gotten the impression that it bothered him that much to be called Sammy. It annoyed him, of course, but this time was different. This time there was an urgency to it.

"Sam?" When he still didn't respond, I tried asking the question again. "You said that 'it didn't'. It didn't what, Sam?"

He took a deep breath before responding. "It didn't make me slice my wrists."

I shook my head. "No, Sam. It did. I was there. I saw it."

He looked over at me and the haunted look in his eyes froze me to the core. He shook his head slightly.

"Sam, you asked for help. It was forcing you off the ledge and you _asked_ me to help you. You didn't—"

"No!" Sam cut me off. "Dean, what you saw…" His eyes squeezed shut and I could see him swallowing hard. "It was trying to take me." I nodded, raising my eyebrow pointedly. "I couldn't stop it…"

"You did, Samm…Sam," I assured him, but he only shook his head and I was startled to notice a stray tear escaping down his cheek. "You fought it."

Sam let out a sharp laugh, though his face showed no trace of humor. "I couldn't stop him," he choked out and the blood ran cold in my veins. Him? I started to shake my head, really not liking the sound of this. "I f-fought but…hh-it caught me off guard."

"I know," I soothed, not sure what else to do. I felt so helpless watching Sam struggle with whatever had happened. I started to reach out to…I don't know…hug him or something, but the way he tensed, as my hand drew close to him, caused me to draw back. "Sam, it's okay. You…did good."

Again Sam laughed humorlessly. "You don't understand, Dean."

"Make me understand," I pressed, not sure I wanted to hear him, but needing to.

"It didn't make me slit my wrists. I…" He stopped and for a few moments I thought I was going to have to prompt him again, but then he continued. "It was trying to take me and I couldn't l-let it. I didn't want to die…b-but I thought i-if I was…I don't know…b-broken? Damaged. If I w-wasn't perfect anymore then m-maybe he wouldn't want m-me."

Fuck. Sammy…Any other time, I would probably have teased him about calling himself perfect, but I had the feeling that he wasn't the one who'd deemed himself that. And much as I wanted to break the tension, I knew he needed to get this out. He'd held it in for far too long.

"I did that, Dean…I-it was the only way."

I nodded, but couldn't make myself speak just yet

"I didn't beat it. I…I didn't."

I shook my head vehemently. "No. You did, Sam. You beat it. You did what you had to do to get away," I assured him, my voice raw. "You weren't given any options; it would have taken you," I fed off his story. Damn but I needed to know what the hell this thing was and what exactly it had done to him to make him think that slicing his own wrists was the best option for survival. And why now, even years later, it could reduce him to stuttering in fear. And why hadn't he told us this years ago? Why had he felt it necessary to hide it? "What was it…do you know?"

Sam shook his head. "But it's still here," he whispered. "I can _feel_ it…"

And somehow, in that moment, I could, too.


	4. Chapter Three: Sam

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. I had a major bout of writer's block coupled with an extreme lack of time to write (darn work anyway!) And this turned out to be the chapter that would not end. I finally decided to chop it off at a semi-reasonable stopping point (heh) just so I could post something to let you guys know it has not been abandoned. (Nor have my other ones, in case you're following them.) I suppose the good news, then, is that the next chapter is already started and several pages long. Woot. So thanks for sticking with me, and please let me know what you think!

Chapter Three

I shouldn't have told Dean anything; now he was all worried about me. Not that he'd ever say it, but I could tell by the way he kept looking at me, stealing glances when he didn't think I'd notice. But I did notice, and it was more than a little unnerving. It's not like I was about to break or anything. I think I liked it a lot better when he thought I'd won the last battle with this demon.

Red Moon hadn't changed a whole lot since we were last there, though the few changes were major ones. Like our old house? It was completely gone, along with the other houses on our block. They'd been replaced by a mini-mall of all things. My old school, I noted with no small amount of satisfaction, was also gone. Construction had just completed on the new Community Center that went up in its place.

We stood before the building, gazing at it with trepidation. Or at least I was. Dean…well, he was alternating between scouting out the area and watching me gaze at the building with trepidation. I hated that this place had such an effect on me. I tried to remind myself that it wasn't the building that had harmed me, and even if it had been, that building was long gone.

But the fear still remained.

It was stupid. It'd been ten years and since that time, I'd faced countless things that could have killed me, so why was this particular place any different? Dean was right in pointing out that in the end I survived, and that I was stronger now. Plus I didn't exactly fit the same profile I did back then. It had preyed on my weakness and fed on my innocence.

"So…is it in there?" Dean asked, glancing at me sideways.

"How am I supposed to know?" I asked, rubbing my temple tiredly as if it could rub away the tension headache that was starting to worsen. Dean looked at me pointedly. This wasn't that type of headache. I shook my head. "Doesn't work like that…" I reminded him. Not that I really knew how my visions did work.

I could feel the thing's presence, though. I couldn't tell for sure if it centered on the building, but it was definitely there in town.

Dean shrugged, and looked back up at the building. "Well, only one way to find out," he concluded and started up the stairs. I wanted to call him back, but I knew that was why we were there. The faster we found and exorcised the thing, the sooner we could leave Red Moon behind forever. And I'd never even have to think about what happened.

With that in mind, I headed up the stairs after Dean.

The doors were currently blocked by a banner announcing that the Grand Opening would be celebrated by a dance to take place in just a couple days. Dean ducked under the banner to go check the doors as I stood watch. So far nobody seemed to be taking much notice of us, but the last thing we needed was to be arrested in that town. I didn't want to spend any more time there than was absolutely necessary. I could already feel the hand of evil closing in on me, a bony finger tracing slowly down my spine. I could feel its cold breath on the back of my neck, as it whispered into my ear. _Sammy._

I flinched so hard I stumbled and almost fell when suddenly Dean was there again, steadying me. "Whoa. You're looking a little green. You gonna hurl there, Sammy?" Dean asked, and I flinched at the moniker. "Sorry…Sam," he amended quickly.

"I'm fine," I assured him, and myself. I'm fine. I'm fine. Really, I'm fine.

Dean didn't look impressed with my answer, but didn't pursue it. "It's locked," he informed me. "It shouldn't be hard to pick, but I think we should wait until after dark." I nodded, but didn't trust myself to speak. The thought of coming back after dark terrified me, though I refused to admit it aloud. It was dumb anyway; if the thing wanted to attack me, it already proved that it had no qualms about doing so in the daylight. "In the meantime we'll stake out a place to stay and maybe hit the local library." Dean was still watching me critically, so I forced myself again to nod and act like everything was normal.

Well, normal for us anyway.

"I think it would be best if we stayed in Dalton tonight," Dean announced as he began driving back through town. I knew that wasn't really what he thought, but what he figured I would want to do. He was right, I would far rather put distance between us and this town, but it was a bad plan. It'd be really inconvenient to drive out to Dalton to rest up only to drive all the way back after dark. Besides, assuming we did find the demon, the last thing we'd want is to have to drive twenty odd miles back after battle in order to clean up, tend to wounds, and rest.

"No. There's an inn on Main," I replied keeping my voice steady.

"You sure?" I knew he wasn't asking about the existence of the inn but giving me an out without making me ask for it.

"Yeah, I saw it on the way into town."

Dean's gaze lingered on me a few moments too long for me to mistake it as anything other than concern, but he didn't say anything.

As soon as we checked into the hotel, we hit the library, hoping to find anything that might help us figure out what exactly it was we were dealing with. We started with the fact that it had been ten years almost to the date of when I was attacked, and pulled newspapers from the archive for April 30th through May 3rd for each of the past few decades.

There was nothing obvious mentioned in 1976. Or 1956. One look at Dean told me that there was nothing from the years he was looking through, either. His eyes met mine before his attention slowly drifted over to the paper that I had purposely been avoiding.

1996.

"_Shhhh," a voice hissed into my ear, a hand feeling like lead as it pressed down on my shoulder. I flinched as another hand traced down my jaw and traveled down until the fingernail pressed lightly into the hollow of my throat. I closed my eyes as the finger pressed slightly, the threat clear. "Shhh…Sammy…"_

I flinched as I swore I could actually hear it, though it was years ago.

I grabbed the stack of papers as Dean started to reach for it. I didn't want to look at it, but I needed to know. I flipped to the front page of the April 30th edition. There was a picture of my old school on the front page.

_Sammy._

I shivered involuntarily and shoved the paper toward Dean, after all. I didn't even want to read the headline. I watched as he looked at me over the top of the paper for a few moments before slowly looking down through the article. It wasn't going to be helpful anyway. There was no way that there was even close to the full story…what the police and the reporters knew amounted to a load of crap.

"Sammy?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder. As it was, I leapt to my feet, knocking over my chair in the process. I whirled around and was startled to find myself looking down at a slightly familiar young woman.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," the woman apologized quickly, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you…Sammy Winchester?"

"It's just Sam," I corrected automatically, my mind racing as I tried to place who she was. I couldn't place her, but fortunately there was a cheat sheet. Her name tag. Ms. Willets-Wallace. She didn't look at all like the girl I used to know, but "Merry Death?" her old nickname flew from nowhere.

"It's just Meredith now," she replied with a laugh. "I thought that was you!" Her arms circled my waist and she hugged me tight. Over her shoulder, I saw Dean raising his eyebrow at me as I awkwardly returned the embrace. "My God, Sammy Winchester. You've gotten so…tall. I haven't seen you since…" she suddenly stiffened in my arms. Slowly her head tilted up and she looked at me with concern.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, well…we left town a few days after that."

She nodded. "I knew that," she admitted quietly. "I wanted to go see you, but…"

Dean cleared his throat loudly and I glanced over at him. Both of his eyebrows were now raised and he looked back at Meredith. I returned my attention to her, ignoring his silent questioning.

"It's okay, they wouldn't have let you anyway. They didn't even let my family in to see me those first few days."

"I was so worried about you. You seemed totally fine when I left, and then…What happened?" she asked. Her eyes widened. "Oh you don't have to answer that. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bring up!" Her cheeks pinked further. "So, how are you? What are you doing back here?"

Dean cleared his throat again and I was startled to realize that he had gotten up and was now standing right behind me. "Oh, um, Meredith, this is my big brother Dean. Dean, this is my friend, Meredith," I introduced him to only real friend I'd made during our few weeks in Red Moon.

"Madam Librarian," Dean greeted, flashing a borderline lecherous grin.

Meredith's eyes lit with amusement as she turned to my brother. "So you're the infamous Dean Winchester," she greeted him. "We meet at last."

Dean downgraded to one of his patented smirks, though I could see the slight hint of confusion in his eyes. "The man, the legend," he agreed.

"You know my sister still curses your name?"

Dean's brow furrowed for a moment, but then he nodded in understanding as he noticed her nametag. "You're Jayne's little sister?"

"Half-sister, thank you very much," she corrected, her mouth twisting shrewdly. I almost laughed, remembering just how much she used to detest everything about her older sister. As much as I'd wanted to emulate Dean back then, she'd wanted to differentiate herself from her sister. I'd never even known she was a blonde before because she'd worn her hair dyed black back then. She also stopped wearing the pale makeup and black lipstick that used to adorn her face. "You were responsible for the single worst experience in her life, you know," Meredith informed Dean, though her eyes were still lit with amusement. At his dubious look, she elaborated. "My god, Jayne Willits having to go to a dance without a date?"

"That's the worst thing that ever happened to her," Dean repeated back in disbelief.

Meredith laughed. "The way she tells it, it was a fate worse than death. Never mind that for her it was just one dance, for me it was like...story of my life. But you know, you do have the opportunity to make it up to her." Dean's eyebrow rose again, questioning. "There's a dance to celebrate the new Community Center coming up in just a few days. Déjà vu much, am I right?"

I frowned as that sank in. There was exactly such a dance planned the last time we were in Red Moon. For exactly the same purpose, too. "Wait. What happened to the old…New Community Center?"

Meredith's eyes widened. "You didn't hear?" She shook her head. "Oh of course you didn't, you'd already left town." She got a faraway look in her eyes.

"What happened?" I asked again.

"There was a fire just a few days after it opened. The whole building was completely destroyed. They tried to save it, but I guess the fire spread too fast. It was too late before the fire department even managed to get there. The people who were there didn't even have a chance to get out." I saw tears forming in her eyes and gave her a sympathetic smile. "It was a big blow to the whole town. A town this size losing twenty-eight people all at once? Everyone knew all of the victims. It was devastating."

"Did they ever find out what caused it?" I asked gently.

"They said that it was a problem in the electrical wiring."

"But…" Dean prompted, sensing, as I did, that she wasn't saying everything.

She sighed, but nodded. "But that didn't really make any sense. The word is that there were six distinct points of origin." Dean and I exchanged glances. "Electrical wiring problem I get, but what are the odds that six completely different places in the wiring would suddenly burst into flame at the same time?"

Pretty damn slim. Neither Dean or I answered, but it was clear we didn't need to; Meredith already had that part figured.

"It's taken us all a long time to get over that, but they finally decided it was time to rebuild. There's a dance celebrating the opening on the 1st. Are you still going to be in town?" she blinked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Well we were supposed to be visiting some friends in Briarville, but they bailed on us last minute, so we figured we'd check out our old haunt," Dean explained.

Meredith nodded, though she gave him a strange look before turning back to me. "I'm off work in a few minutes; you wouldn't by chance want to go get some coffee or something?"

Dean gave me a little nudge. "Yeah, you two crazy kids should definitely go catch up." He waggled his eyebrows a little bit as he caught me glancing at him. I had to force myself not to roll my eyes.

"Sure, that'd be great," I replied to Meredith, though. Maybe I'd be able to get more information that could help us figure out exactly why we were here.

"Okay. I just have to finish shelving some returns, and then I'll meet you back here," she suggested. I nodded, smiling as she gazed up at me a few moments longer. "I'm really glad to see you again, Sam. I always wondered what happened to you." She lingered for just a moment longer before returning to her work.

Dean smirked as soon as she was out of sight. "So, what do you know. Little Sam had a girlfriend?"

"It wasn't like that. She just…neither of us really had any friends here. We just kind of hung out a little bit, that's all."

"You're telling me that girl," he looked in the direction Meredith had gone, "didn't have friends? Were the guys at your school actually blind?"

I scowled slightly, but didn't answer. My brother could be surprisingly shallow at times. Or perhaps not so surprisingly. "Okay, so maybe it's just a coincidence, but I find it a little weird that both times we end up here in town they've just finished building a new community center," I changed the subject. "Maybe what we're looking for isn't time based like we were thinking. What if it's event based."

"We need to see if we can find out anything about previous community centers," he stated, sounding doubtful.

"Not necessarily. But what about looking around the times of any new building constructions?"

"There's also been a town dance both times," Dean acknowledged, looking thoughtful. "Okay, while you go," he looked at me leeringly, "_talk_ to Meredith…" I rolled my eyes at his obviousness, "…see if you can find out what buildings around here are new. And when they were built--like that mini-mall. I'll start looking back at old society pages and see if I can find anything odd surrounding town shindigs."

I nodded and sat down to look through old papers until Meredith was finished working. I was still tempted to look at the newspaper from the day after my "accident", but every time I even glanced at it, my sense of foreboding increased. I was relieved when I saw Meredith returning and I was able to take a break from searching the archives.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Dean instructed me when he looked up and saw her coming.

"Dean, there isn't anything you wouldn't do," I shot back.

He gave me a look as if to say, 'and your point is…?'

I ignored him and rose up to greet Meredith before she got close enough for Dean to embarrass either of us.

"So what are you really doing in town?" Meredith asked as we left the library.

"Oh, we were going to visit some friends but they bailed on us, so we decided to stop back here," I recited Dean's story.

"And you just thought it would be fun to go to the library and pull half of the newspaper archives out for a look? Come on, Sammy, the Red Moon Gazette is hardly an exciting read. So you had to be looking for something. Am I right?"

"Just 'Sam', please," I reminded her, my stomach roiling at the moniker.

She waited for a moment for me to answer, and then seemed to realize that I wasn't going to. "Okay, Sam. What were you looking for?"

"Well I…" my mind was a complete blank. Dean was always so much better at coming up with things like this on the spot. And I hated lying to friends. I'm sure no matter what I came up with, it wouldn't be believed; the guilt had to already be showing on my face. "I…"

"Is it about what happened to you?" she asked softly, and I felt her hand lightly brush against my arm. When I didn't answer right away she stopped walking and waited for me to turn around and face her. "You probably didn't know this, but you saved my life," she informed me quietly. I didn't understand; I hadn't done anything. That I could remember anyway. "You were there all of what? Three weeks? But you _saw_ what people who knew me my entire life couldn't. Or wouldn't," she answered my unspoken question. "I was so sure that no one could ever like someone like me. Someone who wasn't…Jayne, I guess. Everyone loved her and I was just weird, morbid little Merry Death. But you saw past that," she smiled sadly. "You were my only friend, and I completely missed that you were in some sort of trouble," she shook her head. "I still don't get it. One minute we were talking and laughing and you were totally cheering me up. Then next thing I know there were sirens and police cars." She looked up at me sadly. "And everybody was saying that you'd tried to kill yourself."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My mind was too busy trying to stop the flood of memories she was trying to open. I didn't want to remember that day.

_I felt the unnaturally cold hand brush my cheek, and tried to flinch away from it. SammySammyshhhhhSammy. I could feel heavy breath against the back of my neck._

"The paper said that someone attacked you. I've never gotten past that, Sam. You were there for me and I totally failed you. I know it's selfish of me to ask, and I hate dredging up bad memories, but I really need to know. What happened to you, Sammy?"

_No! I tried to shove away so hard that I fell back myself, tumbling to the floor in an awkward tangle of limbs. I scrambled to my feet and raced for the door, ignoring the startled voice of my teacher calling after me. "Sammy?"_

"Sammy?"

I gaped at Meredith, her face suddenly out of focus.

_No. No. Nonono. I raced for the door, but slid to a halt as I saw Mr. Janssen somehow there in front of me. I shook my head, my eyes wide with fright, knowing that my teacher couldn't possibly be there since I'd just left him in the classroom. Hadn't I? Yes, I could hear him still in the room, heavy footsteps coming closer. I shook my head, opening my mouth to yell for help, but no sound would emerge. _

"_Sammy?" Mr. Janssen called in a soft, worried voice. I turned and fled the only other direction I could, through the basement access door and barreling down the stairs, tripping and falling down the last half-flight. _

"Sam can you hear me?"

I wanted to tell her I didn't remember. I wanted to shove the memories out of my head, but the floodgates were open and there was no holding them back.

I opened my mouth, but no sound would emerge.

"Sammy?"

_Sammy. I know you're here, Sammy…come out come out wherever you are._

_I cringed as I heard the low chuckle and stepped backward, away from the sound. Slowly and silently I shuffled deeper into the dark cold shadows._

"Do you need me to get your brother? Sam talk to me!" Meredith's voice was rising.

_I bit my lip and took another step back, praying that the shadows would protect me. Instead my heart nearly exploded when I felt something grab me from behind. An invisible hand clamped over my mouth as I felt an arm encircling my waist, yanking me off my feet and pulling me back against my assailant's body. NOOO!_

_Shhhhh._

_My struggles went unheeded as I was pulled farther into the darkness._

I felt the ground rushing toward me, but could do nothing to stop it as the darkness pulled me in.

A/N: Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!


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